


yeo hwanwoong's introduction to the supernatural nightlife

by EuphonicEclipse, moonravn, sunboy



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anger kink, Bathroom Sex, Begging, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Clubbing, Demons, Drinking, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Glove Kink, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Horny flirting, M/M, Pain Kink, Parties, Porn With Plot, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Shooting, catboy, cowboy?hyojin, demon dongwook, meta dialogue and narration, priest?jus, the shooting is not related to the porn though dont worry, vampire, vampire catboy, various other idol cameos - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphonicEclipse/pseuds/EuphonicEclipse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonravn/pseuds/moonravn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunboy/pseuds/sunboy
Summary: Hwanwoong is roped into going to a party with his best friend, Keonhee, but he gets more than he expected in the form of a vampire catboy, a sexy bartender and his alternate timeline self, and a demon hunting priest.
Relationships: Kim Hyojin/Lee Seungjun | J-Us, Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong
Kudos: 17





	yeo hwanwoong's introduction to the supernatural nightlife

**Author's Note:**

> this is a relay fic! we planned absolutely nothing and said haha yolo and went 500 words each (and some more). no rules no gods only wild times. 
> 
> take it as it is. have fun.

The air inside the club is _suffocating_ , strobe lights almost blinding as they flash together with the booming bass of music over and over—Hwanwoong’s head is starting to hurt, mix of light light _light_ and _noise_ spinning in his senses together with the tinge of alcohol—numbing cocktail that overtakes, makes him rest back against the wall with a bottle of god knows _what_ in his hands.

He had only agreed to come to the party by Keonhee’s insistence, something about not wanting to be all alone even if this _was_ his friend’s party—something about not wanting to be only with strangers and puppy eyes that Hwanwoong couldn’t say no to— and Hwanwoong’s a good friend, alright, so he had tagged along— 

But then Keonhee had left him all alone to go do shots off some handsome strangers' _ass_ , so why was Hwanwoong even _here_ — Hell, why couldn’t it be _him_ taking shots off a stranger’s ass, maybe that would make his headache go away.

Granted, Keonhee _had_ hesitated—had even pushed Hwanwoong forward and told the stranger that _hey, maybe my friend could join us?_ (because Keonhee is the kindest idiot Hwanwoong has ever met)—and _granted_ , it had been Hwanwoong who smacked Keonhee’s back and told him that _no, it’s fine, go have fun, dumbass—_ but _still—_

That is of no consequence, all that matters is that Keonhee had abandoned him, and now Hwanwoong was about to get a stupid fucking _headache_ in some Halloween party with maybe a hundred or so strangers that weren’t even _hot—_ and at a club, of all places, where there wasn’t _anywhere_ to go sit that wasn’t loud _loud_ and drenched in the smell of sweat and alcohol.

At the very least, he muses as he takes a sip of whatever _concoction_ Keonhee had left in his hands before going to do some unsexy ass shots, the music is good—props to the DJ for that—but it was not enough to make Hwanwoong want to even _dance—_ because he loves dancing, yeah, but he’s also getting motion sickness from just _walking,_ so he’s not feeling particularly up for it.

Or for anything that’s not wallowing in his life choices, really.

He sighs, taste of whatever cheap alcohol he just downed burning at his throat, then spares a glance at the bar—there’s a few people sitting, table littered with both empty and full glasses alike, colourful light reflecting off the unnecessarily fancy glass surface—

He figures he can go sit down, at the very least, and wait until Keonhee either texts him he’s going to go _fuck_ and Hwanwoong can go home, or until he comes back from whatever sexy escapades he’s up to—

Either works, really.

He pushes off the wall, light steps as he avoids people in cheap costumes that are either tipsy or drunk as fuck and close to falling on their asses, eyes scanning seats until he finds a free one where the lights won’t hit him directly on the face—

He’s not entirely sure if the red around his vision is a result of said lights or of the red contacts he’d put on as a last minute decision before leaving his house but they add to the effect the rest of this party has on him. He’s made it one more step forward before someone’s pushing in front of him, running past in what looks like a Tony the Tiger costume half drenched in spilled alcohol - they turn their head and Hwanwoong has to blink a few times when he sees they look almost identical to the guy Keonhee disappeared with. God, this headache is _really_ fucking with him.

“Hoshi!” Someone calls out and it takes all of Hwanwoong’s strength and balance not to topple over as Tony the Tiger guy pivots on his heel and pushes past on his way towards where the voice had called from.

The floor is wet and sticky as he struggles to shuffle his way over to the bar, spotting a seat in the far corner of the room that remains devoid of human presence for now. He quickly downs the rest of his drink before one of the drunk party goers around him could trip and make him spill it all over himself.

The colourful lights catch on scales that line someone’s arm, reflecting off and directly into Hwanwoong’s eyes as he stumbles forward, colliding clumsily with the side of the bar. Cold wraps around his wrist as he’s caught before he falls over entirely and when he turns his head, he meets the slitted eyes of the person with scales. Due to the nature of the place, their arm presses right up against Hwanwoong’s, the cold of their scales seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. They blink at him, staring with concern. At least, he assumes it’s concern, but he can’t quite tell with how their gaze darts all over the place - left and right, then up and down as if judging Hwanwoong’s costume. It hits him a few moments after the stranger nods awkwardly - having made sure that Hwanwoong hadn’t mortally wounded himself from clumsiness - and leaves, that the scales had felt far too real to have been a costume.

The thought makes him laugh to himself as he takes a seat at the bar, right beside someone with their black hair dyed half white and with a giant fur jacket on like Cruella de Vil. Two feline ears sit atop their head, and Hwanwoong almost thinks he sees them twitch as he sits down. The stranger doesn’t say anything to him, only stretches their arm up, sleeve sliding down to reveal their red gloves, to call the bartender over.

Fuck. They’re cute. Hwanwoong swallows thickly as he puts his empty glass down. In fact, they’re _ridiculously_ pretty, voice much lower than he’d expected as they ask for another drink.

The bartender nods, leaves, returns with a drink with another nod and a “here you go sir” before turning to Hwanwoong who manages to stammer out an order for himself with his headache still pounding away to the beat of the music.

Cruella de Vil pays him no attention, taking careful sips from his bright pink drink while he scrolls on his phone with his red gloved fingers. When he huffs and places his phone down to hold onto his straw, Hwanwoong can just make out what appear to be dark pads on the fingertips of the guy’s gloves.

"Here," the bartender, an attractive older man just a little too out of place among all the youngsters at the party, says after coming back with Hwanwoong's drink. His hands push the cocktail closer to Hwanwoong and then pause, hesitation clear in the way they don't seem to want to pull away from the bar. Hwanwoong's about to ask if something is the matter when the bartender says, "You... Are you okay?"

The question serves as a reminder that Hwanwoong is very much _not_ okay. His temples throb with the headache that just seems to get worse by the second and he actually winces this time, unable to even reply.

The bartender opens his mouth as if he knows exactly what Hwanwoong is going through. "Want me to take the pain away?" he asks, and something about his hooded eyes, the way they seem so _dead_ , the lack of any kind of glint in them—it sends a chill down Hwanwoong's spine. Something in his gut is desperately screaming at him to refuse the offer, even if Hwanwoong would do anything to rid himself of this headache.

"Oh, Mr. Bartender," the guy next to Hwanwoong jumps into the conversation like it's nobody's business. Cruella de Vil stares down at the older man, eyes sharp and voice leaving no room for disagreement as he tells him, "Be nice, please."

Immediately, the older man backs down. He still says, "I _am_ playing nice, Xion," and sends a look at Cruella de Vil, but he soon goes back to his job and leaves Hwanwoong alone.

Hwanwoong isn't sure if he should be saying thank you or what; he isn't sure of much of what's going on, really, but he definitely feels more at ease now that the bartender is gone. Cruella de Vil also seems to be paying more attention to him now, his eyes a little softer than they were while talking to the bartender, but still sharp as glass as he inspects Hwanwoong's costume.

"Let me guess," Cruella de Vil smirks, "Among Us crewmate?"

"Impostor, actually. You might not be able to tell, but there's a knife somewhere on my body."

That's a lie; Hwanwoong's costume isn't _that_ good. The red jumpsuit is something he repurposed from a previous Halloween party where he killed it as a Money Heist character, and without the red helmet he left on Keonhee's bike, it's actually kinda hard to tell who he's supposed to be. Really, the only thing that gives away the little bean costume is the monster makeup and the NASA stickers barely holding onto his arm.

Cruella de Vil nods with a hint of a smile on his lips, but his eyes then land on the slit running down the side of the jumpsuit, accentuated by the combat boots and the black tactical belts on Hwanwoong's waist.

"Slutty impostor," Hwanwoong clarifies. He has no idea what comes over him when he adds, "You'll have to search _real_ hard to find that knife."

“ _Oh?_ ” Sharp eyes and a cocked eyebrow— Cruella de Vil, _Xion_ , gives Hwanwoong a once over, a crooked smile that reveals interest and something _else_ — “Really, now?” and Hwanwoong swears he can see the ears on top of Xion’s head twitch again— cute _cute_ and curious as he leans back slightly on his seat. “Where would I have to search, then?”

“Wherever you want” Hwanwoong’s voice is breathy with pain coursing through his skull, a click of his tongue as he rests his side where it reaches on the bar, a hand to his temple— Xion gives him a cute blink, another flick of cat ears as he brings pink liquid up to his lips with careful movements.

“You’re hitting on me” a short laugh, a half-question, smile with sharp fangs almost an illusion under bright lighting. “Cute” Xion puts his drink away, brings a hand up— pads of gloved fingers a light _light_ touch to Hwanwoong’s chin. “But you look like you’re dying” a little pout together with a tilt of his head to the side, and Hwanwoong sighs.

“Do I look that bad?” Xion nods, hand up to Hwanwoong’s face— up his cheekbones and to his forehead, light taps before he pulls away.

“Yes” a frown, a little caring smile despite being a complete stranger. “Why don’t you go home?”

Hwanwoong lets out a _petulant_ whine, pushes his bangs back and smudges make-up on his forehead. “Friend’s around” a frown “Waiting for him, I guess?”

“Can’t he get home on his own?” Hwanwoong shrugs, hands playing with the tactical belts— nervous tick as he tries to get his head to work _work_ and stop hurting. “...Can _you_?”

“Honestly?”A smile with _dead_ eyes, contacts already starting to sting. “Probably not”

And Xion gives a sigh, something exasperated and kind— he brings his drink up to his lips again, a peek of his tongue on the edge of the glass as he licks up stray drops—

And it’s a little transfixing— a little _intoxicating_ — the way sharp fangs seem to clank against the glass lightly, the way bright pink slips past his lips, the way the stranger’s eyes catch light and reflect off _red_ —

Hwanwoong swallows, watches the way pretty pretty ears flick back— the way Xion sets his drink down again, brings a gloved hand up to push back his bangs, white staining the tips of his fingers—

He’s cute— hell, he’s _beautiful_ —

“I—” And something takes over Hwanwoong again, head a spinning mess and hands sweaty as he brings one of them down, runs it over the slit on his clothes without much care. “Could use some help, you know?” a coy little smile on his lips as he lets his hand drop—

And Xion laughs— something pretty as he brings one of his arms up and on top of the bar, rests his chin over his hand with piqued curiosity—

“With going home, or—” his other hand up to Hwanwoong’s face again, material of his gloves smooth on Hwanwoong’s skin, fangs pretty past parted lips. “With finding your knife, slutty impostor, dear?”

The fishnets that Hwanwoong’s wearing underneath his jumpsuit dig in as he crosses one leg over the other and looks up at Xion through his eyelashes. It would be alluring, attractive, perhaps a bit sexy, but the moment is ruined somewhat by his hair sweeping down across his eyes. Xion, thankfully, doesn’t say anything and only waits in silence as Hwanwoong brushes back the denim blue strands of his hair with a hand.

“Maybe both.” He answers, ignoring the discomfort of his contacts as a result of the angle he’s looking in, “If you’re offering to help.”

The ears on Xion’s head seem to perk up, interest piqued as he lets his fingers trail down Hwanwoong’s arm, cold and teasing. He lets it drop and rests it on Hwanwoong’s thigh, just above his knee - Hwanwoong licks his lips, there’s no way Xion cannot feel the pattern of the fishnets through the thin fabric that separates them.

“That depends,” Xion practically _purrs,_ the sound low and smooth, sweet and thick like honey to Hwanwoong’s ears, “your home or mine?”

Hwanwoong meets his eyes, lips parting soundlessly as Xion stares with glowing eyes and tongue running over his fangs slowly. Caught in that gaze like a deer in headlights, Hwanwoong’s headache seems to melt away for a few precious moments, clarity hitting him hard enough that he’s able to truly comprehend just what may be about to happen. Then he blinks and the moment passes, but he has his answer and exactly zero regrets for now.

“Mine.” He runs his fingers through his hair as Xion watches the movement, watches the way his head tilts back, with something so warm yet _hungry_ in those pretty eyes.

“Gonna make me see stars, my slutty imposter?” Xion says slyly, “Or did you want _me_ to..” he trails off as the hand on Hwanwoong’s thigh slides up and over his hip to rest against the small of his back.

The sudden pressure there, the cold of Xion’s hand, snaps Hwanwoong back into the true discomfort of reality around him - the still headache-inducing music, the sweaty people walking past in various states of costume quality, and his “knife”. Or rather, the long and pretty metal plug still nestled inside his ass, complete with a red gem to match his outfit. He’s faintly aware that he should perhaps be concerned by how _cold_ Xion is, but he’s also the prettiest boy Hwanwoong has ever seen and the questioning look he gives him is far too soft to be dangerous.

“We don’t have to actually do anything, you know.” Xion says when Hwanwoong takes a little too long to respond. His frown is clearly more out of concern than irritation or anything upset and it just makes Hwanwoong _long_ for him even more, desire burning, burning, burning in his core. “I can just take you home.”

Hwanwoong shakes his head, “No, no I’d- I’d like to do something with you.” He resists the urge to facepalm and manages to smile despite his headache.

It comes too out of nowhere. One second he's smiling at Xion, the next second there's someone elbowing Hwanwoong on the face as sheer bedlam breaks in the middle of the club. Hwanwoong's too busy holding his nose where it hit the bar to really take a look at what's going on, but he knows Xion's hands are on his shoulders and the pretty boy is asking him if he's alright, so he quickly tries to compose himself—it's a little hard, though. A broken nose on top of everything else? You've got to be kidding him.

"That looks nasty," the bartender comments after suddenly appearing in front of them, sounding nearly sarcastic with the blank expression on his face. Hwanwoong's thinking of telling the guy to go fuck himself when a bright blue drink is placed in front of him, smoothly slid closer to him with a small smile that doesn't make the bartender look less dead inside. "For the pain. I swear."

The last words are uttered at Xion, whose grip on Hwanwoong's shoulders tighten just a little bit.

"Drink it."

It comes as a surprise when it's Xion's voice the one that whispers against Hwanwoong's ear. It sends a chill right down Hwanwoong's spine, a hot flush that spreads from his nape to his chest and makes the hairs on his arms stand up.

Hwanwoong drinks the blue liquid almost too quickly.

It seems to work instantly. Immediately he feels the burn of alcohol going down his throat, barely masked by something a little _too_ sweet, but it melts away the pain from the headache and the hit at the back of his head and the bridge of his nose. It doesn't fix everything—Hwanwoong still would very much be somewhere with less flashing lights, preferably with no deep bass so loud that he can feel it inside his skull, no club fights to put him in physical danger—but it does make it bearable.

The bartender crosses his arms over the bar, arched eyebrow and upturned lips almost mocking in a way. Hwanwoong hates the way the man seems to be looking at him like he's cute in the same way a pathetic animal is. "Better?"

"What was that?"

"Same thing I'm drinking," Xion says, chin pointing at his bright pink cocktail. "Pink helps with sensory stuff. Blue is for physical pain."

A little too close for comfort, the bartender asks Hwanwoong, "Wanna know what red does?"

"Mr. Bartender," Xion warns, voice oddly high pitched, the hint of a hiss at the very end confusing Hwanwoong. " _Dongwook_."

The bartender merely laughs, a low cackle that Hwanwoong doesn't like at all, but he does back down. Grabbing a rag and wiping the bar as nonchalant as one does, Dongwook quickly changes the subject. "If you two were thinking of leaving, I'm very sorry to tell you that it's not possible at the moment."

Xion frowns. "Why's that?"

"There," Dongwook nods at where the ruckus is now at; Hwanwoong sees the way people seem to cluster, almost looking like a mosh pit if it weren't for the occasional person that flies away and crashes into nearby tables. "Apparently a priest made his way into the party and is now causing trouble, so you know how it goes."

Hwanwoong doesn't know how it goes. Xion, on the other hand, clicks his tongue before muttering, "Lockdown."

“Because of a priest?” He focuses back on just looking at Xion, ignores the burn of the bartender’s eyes on his skin. Xion gives him a sigh, runs a careful hand over Hwanwoong’s cheek— careful fingers over his nose, over healing red skin.

“Long story” Soft voice, icy breath on his skin before Xion pulls away with a little pout. “Sorry I can’t take you home”

“Can’t be helped” A smile—

And whatever the hell Hwanwoong’s brain is going through after that— he thinks as he pushes off his seat and steps into Xion’s space— he absolutely blames on whatever drink Keonhee had given him earlier, the brightness of the damn lights and loudness of the music, and the still burning alcohol at the back of his throat from the blue cocktail—

“But we can still—” A lick of his lips, a nervous hand to Xion’s chest— Xion’s ears flick back and front again, eyes focused _focused_ on Hwanwoong’s face. “Have fun somewhere?”

“Where would that be, though?” As he leans down, hand coming up to hold Hwanwoong’s on his chest— voice interested and hot _hot_ despite the ice of Xion’s everything.

“Somewhere with less people?” Hwanwoong’s hand goes up then, tangles on the back of Xion’s hair— pulls carefully with a coy smile. “You know the place better than me, _Xion-ssi_ ” he lets the name drop from his lips _soft—_ lets his weight rest against Xion’s body and _god—_

He’s so _cold—_ cold enough it makes Hwanwoong shiver when Xion pushes forward, hands on Hwanwoong’s face and lower back— cold enough it feels _good—_ good against the light and heat of the club, against the noise noise _noise_ of fighting and people and the heat of pain that numbs his skull—

Xion smiles, lips a light touch to the side of Hwanwoong’s mouth, a light stab against his skin when Xion speaks—

“Follow me?” frigid skin against Hwanwoong’s, pretty eyes that shine red under strobe lights and music—

Of course, Hwanwoong does— Hwanwoong follows, lets Xion’s hands pull him forward and away from the bar, pull him through people people _people noise noise noise noise—_ away until they’re walking through a small hallway, badly lit and stained with red and alcohol—

Away until they get past the _stupidly_ heavy bathroom door, Xion pushing Hwanwoong so his back is against the tiled wall, lips pressed together in a kiss that’s needy _needy_ — all rush and no care as Hwanwoong brings his hands up and _pulls—_

And the cat ears _twitch—_ twitch at noises coming from somewhere in the bathroom with them and twitch _twitch_ towards Hwanwoong’s hands—

And then there’s sharp _sharp_ fangs on Hwanwoong’s tongue, prickle of pain making him pull _hard—_

Xion moves away with a gasp, eyes a little dazed in bad lighting and lips parted and—

And _god_ Xion’s fangs are just a little too long— just a little too sharp and Hwanwoong doesn’t know if he wants to ask _why_ or if he simply wants to feel them on his skin—

He gets to ask _neither,_ though, because then there’s a strong _bang_ against a stall door— hit that sends it flying open and makes Xion startle— cute ears jumping with the noise and eyes _wide_ as he grips at Hwanwoong’s shirt and turns around, searches—

Searches until he finds a guy with pretty silver hair and a cross necklace stradling some poor soul with red hair and scratches on his face and neck and—

“Oh” Xion starts, grip he has on Hwanwooong’s shirt loosening as his ears move here and there. “Father Seungjun” a cock of an eyebrow, one hand moving to grab at Hwanwoong’s arm. “Fancy seeing you here,” a little smile, happy twitch of his ears “are you getting your dick wet?”

“I don’t know what you expect me to write to continue with this.” The priest replies, sparing the two of them only a brief glance before he returns to his task at hand. Red hair guy, dressed up as some sort of cowboy (although Hwanwoong doesn’t think he’d be surprised if the guy was actually a cowboy by profession), gives them a little wave until Father Seungjun grabs his wrist to pin it down. “You two carry on, don’t mind us.”

This time, Seungjun turns to stare at them and it’s hard to tell whether or not eye contact is made because the priest’s eyes are entirely white from scleras to pupils but Hwanwoong feels a holy chill down his spine all the same.

“I’ll take good care of you, my pretty little imposter.” Xion purrs into Hwanwoong’s ear as he tightens his grip on his arm, then he nods at Seungjun, “Don’t worry Father Seungjun, you just worry about having your own fun there.”

He pushes Hwanwoong into one of the stalls gently, leaving one cubicle between them and the other two, and carefully locks the door with a satisfied smile. Hwanwoong watches, mesmerised and ridiculously turned on, as Xion shrugs off his fur coat and drapes it over the top of the stall door. Before Hwanwoong can even blink, Xion’s lips are on his jaw, teeth biting down sharp and dangerous and so _hot_ and his fangs are dragging little scratch lines into his skin but he doesn’t care he just wants _more, more, more._

There’s a hand on his waist and another on the other side of his neck, holding his head still and bared for Xion to do as he wishes. Hwanwoong is stunned into not moving for a few seconds, head still spinning and hands just grasping at nothing until he anchors them into Xion’s hair, scratches lightly at his ears and feels them twitch, hair - fur? - soft and warm. Something long curls around Hwanwoong’s thigh as the hand on his waist glides down and lifts up his leg to hook it around Xion’s waist. He manages to pull his head away just enough to glance down and catch a glimpse of a long black tail wrapped firmly around his thigh.

Once Xion is sure Hwanwoong won’t move his leg, his hand reaches around to grasp Hwanwoong’s ass at the same time he collides their lips together in a messy kiss. All Hwanwoong can do is moan and closer, as close as he physically can and give a particularly rough tug on Xion’s hair when his hand slips past the waistband of Hwanwoong’s pants. His cold fingers trail lower until they pause and Hwanwoong shivers as he _feels_ more than he hears Xion chuckle against him.

“wHAT’S this?” his laughter is cute even as his fingers circle around the gem of the butt plug inside Hwanwoong, “You came prepared didn’t you?”

There’s a long silence. (except for the loud moaning coming from Father Seungjun and The Cowboy, the one and only yeehaw, elsewhere in the bathroom that Hwanwoong tries to ignore)

Hwanwoong doesn’t dare breathe.

“So, um,” Xion giggles, pulling back just enough that he can press his forehead to Hwanwoong’s. He’s biting his lower lip, sharp fangs jutting out cutely, white against pretty red lips. “What… What _is_ your name? I need to know what to moan while I’m fucking you, my slutty imposter.”

“It’s been 4,364 words and Xion is only just now learning Hwanwoong’s name oh my fuckign god.” Hwanwoong breathes out with a little laugh of his own, “I’m Hwanwoong.”

A loud bang on the side of the stall startles the two of them. Hwanwoong nearly loses his footing, the tail hooked around his leg not really helping his balance, almost taking Xion down with him—but he manages to catch himself with a hand on the wall, fingers touching some graffiti that looks particularly demonic.

"Little Hwanwoong," whoever is at the other side of the stall says, "no one appreciates it when you're meta."

"What?"

Xion pulls back, the first time in a while that they haven't been at lip-sucking distance, Hwanwoong having to bite his tongue to avoid whining and chasing after Xion's pretty red lips. The only reason he doesn't is because Xion is frowning at him—or, well, _past_ him. Hwanwoong's hand is still on the graffiti and Xion clicks his tongue, muttering something about stupid 1-step summoning rituals.

" _Summoning rituals_?" Hwanwoong looks back at his hand, back at the demonic graffiti, and takes off his hand as if he's been burned. "What the hell did I summon?"

"Me, pretty."

When a man suddenly jumps into view, Hwanwoong is once again startled so bad that he barely has time to aim for the toilet seat (which looks somewhat clean, at least) to avoid falling to the floor. It's not just the fact that someone is hovering over the side of the stall high enough to peek inside, but the fact that such a person is most likely _levitating_ , and oh, they also look exactly the same as the bartender. Dead eyes and all.

"Mr. Bartender?!"

"Close," the man smirks. "I'm him from another timeline or something."

"What—another timeline?"

"Yeah, summoning is funky like that. You say I'm a bartender here? I like that." The man nods to himself, lips pulling back just a little to show a set of fangs that the bartender didn't have. "Yeah, let's go with our professions to tell us apart. I guess you could say I'm the nation's representative where I'm from."

Xion sighs loudly, exasperated, fingers pinching his brow.

"I see you two are getting spicy in here?"

"Yeah." Xion sighs again, hands back again on Hwanwoong's chest, keeping him in place as Xion sits himself on Hwanwoong's lap with moves just a little too forceful. Oh, the guy's _pissed_. He must be so done with everything going on—the bartender, the priest and the cowboy fucking, the summoning bullshit, the fact that they're both so horny and have been able to do jackshit in nearly 5 thousand words—and the angry look on his face is, honestly, one of the hottest things Hwanwoong's ever seen. He doesn't even mind the way Xion's nails dig a little too hard on his flesh, doesn't mind the fact that Xion isn't even looking at him when he says, "Without you, _Mr. Representative_. Kindly fuck off."

“No need to be so _rude_ ” and Mr. Representative has the gall to _laugh_ , hovering in the air as he is. “Plus, you called me here”

“On accident” And there’s nails ( _claws_?) digging into Hwanwoong’s side with a _little_ too much strength and a _little_ too much anger and holy fucking _shit—_

Hwanwoong whines, something choked and unintentional, hands a little shaky where they grip onto Xion’s clothes— fucking _hell_ Hwanwoong is turned on and fucking _hell—_

“Fuck off and leave now” Xion’s voice is venom— something low and icy and _fuck—_ he glances at Hwanwoong— a second— turns back to glare daggers at Mr. Representative as he loosens his hand just a little over Hwanwoong’s skin and clothes— Hwanwoong breathes out something mangled, drops his own hand so it falls over Xion’s, grip shaky but steady as he just pushes Xion’s hand _closer—_

“You guys can just go on” Mr. Representative has a shit-eating grin on, hands and chin resting on top of the stall door. “Pretend I’m not here”

“No” Xion’s voice is still angry and— fuck, _okay_ , Hwanwoong is at his fucking _limit—_

“He can watch if he wants” and Hwanwoong pulls Xion’s head back to look at him, grip on Xion’s hand tight _tight_ — “I don’t mind” and he sounds breathy and pent up and definitely _horny_ but _god—_ he’s been trying to get some for god knows how long to have _one_ good thing come out of this damn party and—

“You’re into that?” Xion’s question is a little surprised, just a little whisper— Hwanwoong laughs, pulls him in for another kiss, a lick to his lips.

“Maybe” hot against cold _cold_ skin— icy against Hwanwoong’s hand and against his breathing— icy against his tongue and sending something painful painful and full of pleasure down his spine. “Or maybe I just want you?” a little smile, hand falling down to Xion’s neck, chest—

“Needy” and Xion’s frown seems to fade a little, sharp fangs going to Hwanwoong’s lower lip and making him gasp. “I don’t want to share you, though” a little pout, a quick kiss to Hwanwoong’s lips—

“Then don’t—” Hwanwoong keeps Xion close, breathes close _close—_ until alcohol in their breaths is suffocating and Hwanwoong’s hand is tangled in messy white and black hair and— “Look at me— only me”

And then Hwanwoong pulls him in again, pulls him into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth— doesn’t wait for a reply and just _takes_ — pulls on Xion’s hair and it’s all messy _messy_ and Hwanwoong needs _needs needs so much—_

Xion pulls away with a hand to Hwanwoong’s neck, lips parted and fangs pretty _pretty_ and— “Hwanwoong—” Something like a pant, black tail curling around Hwanwoong’s legs and Xion’s ears twitching _twitching_ and— “Let me bite—”

Hwanwoong’s rationale is out the window— he only whines, pulls Xion’s close _close_ and to his neck and— “ _Please_ ”

And then Xion pulls on Hwanwoong’s collar and _bites—_ sharp teeth on his shoulder and _fuck—_

 _Fuck—_ it feels good—

And with Xion’s fangs digging in deeper than humanly possible, Hwanwoong is almost able to ignore the fact that they’re in a bathroom stall, trapped at the bar, while a fight rages on outside, he’s almost able to ignore the sounds coming from Father Seungjun and The Cowboy just a few stalls over, and he’s almost able to ignore the fact that they’re being _watched_ by an alternate timeline version of the _bartender_ from earlier.

_Almost._

It would be a lot easier to forget, he thinks dazedly as Xion sucks and laps at the bite he’d left, if _Mr Representative_ wasn’t commentating.

“Now, now, Xion, don’t play with your food.” Mr Representative has both arms atop the stall door and his chin propped up with a hand. “Ooh you’re wrapping your tail around him quite hard, aren’t you? You’re biting into him.”

Xion doesn’t turn around, doesn’t spare him a glance, but Hwanwoong can see the coldness in his glare all the same as Xion pulls away from his neck. His lips are so red, with what Hwanwoong assumes is lipstick - that must now be smeared all over his neck. fuck. - but then it drips, the colouring is uneven, some spots darker than others.

And then Xion smiles at him, pretty fangs stained red, red, red, and it takes all of Hwanwoong’s strength not to grind his hips up into Xion and ruin his jumpsuit right then and there.

“Whatever you did, Xion, I think Hwanwoong _likes_ it.”

Hwanwoong grips Xion’s hair, holding him still so he can’t turn around and he’s forced to keep all his attention on Hwanwoong himself - so needy and panting heavily and so goddamn horny.

“Xion, Xion, Xion,” Hwanwoong whines, “Please- Please I need it, need you to just _fuck me.”_

“Careful there, Hwanwoong, you’ll be pulling the cat’s hair out if you keep going like that.”

Xion licks his lips, licks up every last drop of blood, and grips Hwanwoong’s chin roughly, tilting his head up as he crushes their lips together, his other hand reaching for the zipper of his jumpsuit. Hwanwoong tries to help, lifting his ass up enough so that he can shimmy the jumpsuit down to his ankles, revealing his fishnets underneath as Xion steps back to help him kick the jumpsuit all the way off.

“Ah and the clothes are finally starting to come off.” Mr Representative comments. “Not for our Xion de Vil yet though.”

Hwanwoong doesn’t wait, doesn’t care anymore, just needs this gorgeous pretty boy dressed up as a Disney villain to fuck him until he sees stars. He lifts his legs, holding himself open with his hands on his thighs and showing off the gem buttplug in his ass. Mr Representative is obscured from view by Xion himself, standing there and staring at Hwanwoong in equal parts awe and hunger, smiling with his fangs that Hwanwoong wants to feel sink into him again and again and _again._

But then, something goes flying towards Xion’s head, something that he catches with catlike reflexes. A packet of lube and a condom, caught between two of his fingers, thrown without a doubt by Mr Representative.

“Stay safe, kiddos!” He says cheerfully, tilting his head to the side so Hwanwoong can see his facial expression has not changed at all. “Ah, speaking of, Father Seungjun! Are you and Hyojin staying safe too?”

There’s a brief pause to the moans from the other couple but it’s audibly obvious that the priest has _not_ stopped fucking the cowboy.

“Of _course_ we are.” Comes Father Seungjun’s voice in between pants, “I am a man of _God.”_

There’s a series of louder bangs and thumps against the stall wall and the cowboy, Hyojin, moans _much_ louder than before.

“Riiiiiight.” Mr Representative says, having floated over to watch as they fucked against the stall wall, “You sure are a man of God.”

Then his voice gets louder again, closer to Xion and Hwanwoong.

“Ah it seems we’ve had a little pause over here, Hwanwoong is still sitting there and leaning back, waiting while Xion takes a moment to decide what he wants to do to him exactly.”

"God, why couldn't you have an actual knife on you," Xion mutters through his teeth, jaw clenching and fingers gripping the lube and condom with such force that Hwanwoong fears he might just pop the bottle open or get a nail through the wrap, "so I could kill this bastard."

"Why, can't use your claws, kitty cat?" Mr. Representative's expression changes for the first time in a while. Those dead eyes stay the same, but his lips stretch into a mocking grin and it's so condescending—Hwanwoong barely catches his tongue between his teeth to avoid moaning, the way Xion's entire demeanor changes being utterly hot. It's like Xion forgets Hwanwoong's there, fully focused in glaring holes through Mr. Representative's head, ears pointing back and fangs showing with a hiss. "Oh, my."

"I could slash your neck with my claws," Xion warns.

Hwanwoong whines. "God, slash _me_."

The words are enough to get Xion to focus on him again, the anger in his eyes subsiding as soon as they land on Hwanwoong, who's still holding himself open for Xion and Mr. Representative to see, feeling hot all over and wanting nothing but to have a dick in his ass by yesterday. The foreplay, as fun as it is, is _killing_ him.

But then Mr. Representative opens his mouth again, and Xion's eyes turn dark again, and Hwanwoong thinks he could stay this way forever.

"You heard that? He said to slash him. What are you gonna do, Xion? Where will you cut him first? On his shoulder, right next to the two pretty bitemarks you left? On his chest? His thigh? Oh, he'd bleed so much from his thigh—more blood for you to suck up. _So_ much blood."

Hwanwoong's never been harder than he is right now.

It's not because of Mr. Representative's words—although they're certainly helping, alright—but because of the way Xion is trembling with barely contained hunger, mouth open and nearly drooling as he looks at Hwanwoong's soft skin like he wants to devour him. Hwanwoong trembles too, feeling like he might cry if Xion doesn't do anything soon. It's just so much—to feel like prey, to present himself at his most vulnerable, practically begging to be eaten.

Hwanwoong actually begs.

"Please please please _please please_ — Bite me, Xion, just— Bite me, _fuck_ me, _please_ —"

"Can I—"

"Just _do it already_ , oh my God."

Mr. Representative speaks again, but his words get lost in the mess that is Hwanwoong's head. All he can focus on is the feeling of the buttplug still keeping him full, and yet it's just _not enough_ , and Xion falling to his knees in such a way that Hwanwoong hears them painfully hit the floor— The heavy gaze set on them, Mr. Representative watching it all with a hungry, creepy smile of his own— The feeling of Xion's sharp nails digging into his skin as he helps hold Hwanwoong's legs up, fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, breath against the inside of one, sharp fangs gracing the skin—

And then he bites. _Hard_.

Hwanwoong doesn't have half a mind to even be embarrassed— whines _loudly_ and feels himself twitching against Xion’s hands and fucking _hell—_

Xion’s teeth aren’t careful— they dig into Hwanwoong’s skin and draw blood _blood_ that Xion licks up without care— licks up with little pleased noises and his skin is so fucking _cold_ and his nails are digging into Hwanwoong’s thighs hard enough to draw blood and _fuck—_

Hwanwoong whimpers, feels himself almost falling off the damn _toilet,_ has to move his hands to hold on to the edge of the seat and Xion’s hair— Xion only whines against Hwanwoong’s skin, sucks on bitemarks and drags his nails down and _god,_ Hwanwoong’s thighs are bloody and it should be _gross_ but Hwanwoong wants nothing more than for this pretty boy to devour him if he’s up for it.

He’s discovering new kinks of his own, that’s for sure— he’s not sure if he’s got to thank Keonhee for that.

He pulls on Xion’s hair _hard_ when Xion bites at his thigh again, looks up with eyes that seem to fucking shine _red,_ half-lidded and hazy as he nuzzles against Hwanwoong’s thigh and runs his tongue over dripping blood— lips and fangs stained red as he breathes cold _cold cold_ on Hwanwoong’s skin that feels like it’s on fire—

(And Xion’s knees fucking _hurt_ , hurt as much as his _head_ did when he walked into the party earlier, expecting to down a few of Dongwook’s— _Mr. Bartender’s_ — questionable drinks and forget whatever had been worrying him when he left home—

His knees hurt and he can feel Mr. Representative’s gaze on the back of his neck— can feel that _disgusting_ cocky smile burning against freezing skin— but, more than anything—

More than anything, he can feel _Hwanwoong—_ can taste copper that overtakes hazy _hazy_ senses and can taste and feel so much _warmth_ —

He catches Hwanwoong’s eyes— world all blurry and shrouded in mist except except _except_ for red contacts and pretty makeup and lips and skin—

He feels blood drip on his bottom lip— laps it up before giving Hwanwoong a little smile and biting biting _biting_ again _again again—_

Hwanwoong whines, grips on Xion’s hair and begs nonsense _nonsense—_ a stream of curses and Xion’s name and _fuck me fuck me please please please—_ Xion only drives his teeth in deeper, feels red _red_ — feels iron that’s intoxicating and burning on his tongue, lips, throat— spilling and coating _coating_ sticky red down his chin, smell of it sharp on his nose— down his trachea— suffocating taste down his esophagus, up to his tongue, throat, lips again _again—_

He pulls away with a kiss, tongue licking up against open wounds before he looks up, lets his eyes linger at Hwanwoong’s neck a second—

“Xion” Hwanwoong’s voice is breathy, legs twitching against Xion’s hands, face— Xion replies with a hum, a nip of sharp fangs against spilt blood on unmarked skin— “Please— I’m—”

Xion shuts him up with nails digging into Hwanwoong’s thighs— bloody hands _burning_ from red red _red_ and Hwanwoong’s fucking _warmth—_

Hwanwoong lets out something choked, pulls on Xion’s hair and pushes his legs _closer—_ drives Xion’s fangs and nails deeper into his skin, draws more blood that takes over Xion’s senses and paints pale _pale_ skin an almost human colour—

 _Mr. Representative_ says something behind him— makes Xion’s tail curl and his ears flick back— but then Hwanwoong’s pulling him closer before Xion can even _try_ to pull out— fingers tight on Xion’s hair and legs so _so_ shaky and _fuck—_

 _Fuck—_ Hwanwoong’s blood is so _good—_ overtakes and drowns drowns _drowns out_ any words that might have come from Mr. Representative— drowns out and takes away any thoughts that aren’t red red _red red red mine—_

 _Mine—_ the need to posses— the urge to mark Hwanwoong as only _his,_ show everyone in the damn club and _especially_ the damn demon floating in the fucking bathroom and the _damn_ bartender outside that Hwanwoong is _his his his—_

He only pulls away when Hwanwoong cries out— when Xion’s head is all too fuzzy and when his limbs hurt hurt _hurt—_

He’s shaky when he lets go of Hwanwoong’s thighs— shaky and covered in blood— bloody hands and lips and fangs that he licks at more than a little desperate— licks at without care until Hwanwoong pulls on his hair, pulls him up up _up_ again until Xion’s fangs are on Hwanwoong’s lips and tongue and and _and— )_

Xion’s lips taste like _blood—_ tastes like iron iron _iron_ that quickly overtakes Hwanwoong’s senses, sharp on his throat, tongue— blood that paints Hwanwoong’s lips a matching red, has him pulling on Xion’s shirt with breathy noises and so much _need—_

“Hwanwoong” against his lips, sharp fangs scraping, _hurting—_ “Can I— fuck— Wanna fuck you, just—” and _god_ , Hwanwoong has been waiting for _far too long_ and he has absolutely no shame when he lets out a stream of _please oh my god yes_ and pulls Xion so much fucking _closer—_

(Alright let’s fuckin go, horny nation.)

He’s faintly aware of a loud commotion outside, world faint, faint, faint, and so far away around him, there’s a loud yell in an inhuman language but all Hwanwoong knows is Xion’s fangs and Xion’s claws and Xion’s voice and how he’s never been this horny in his whole life.

Xion’s hands freeze halfway through opening the lube as the bathroom door opens and the room is flooded with the sounds of the brawl, still ongoing, outside. Hwanwoong’s legs, shaky and running with pretty rivers of red, curl around Xion’s waist as much as possible from their position. He keeps them spread, as wide as he can, whining and throwing his head back so that Xion will have no choice but to pay attention to him and only him.

“Heyyyyy is this room free?” comes a loud and unfamiliar voice, followed by stumbling footsteps against tile.

Xion is halfway through the hottest fucking snarl Hwanwoong has ever seen and heard, lips and fangs dripping with blood, when-

“No. People are _busy_ here, Hoshi you Tony the Tiger furry.” comes the voice of Mr Representative, Hwanwoong almost wants to thank him until he continues, “Take my bartender alternate timeline self somewhere else and stop interrupting the show.”

Hwanwoong snaps back to the issue at hand when he feels Xion start to tug on the buttplub still filling him up. He wants to whine, legs shaking as he holds them up, still wrapped around Xion’s waist and pulling him in as close as he can. He grabs onto Xion’s arm while he slicks his fingers with lube, looking equal parts graceful and poised and undeniably turned on.

The noise Hwanwoong makes would be embarrassing if he weren’t far too out of his mind with horniness to care anymore - not when Xion is back to looking at him like a meal on a silver platter, slick gloved hands pushing Hwanwoong’s legs up until his knees are almost touching his shoulders, not when he’s suddenly far too _empty_ without the plug that’s now clutched between Xion’s fingers.

“Don’t worry, Hwanwoong,” Xion leans in to whisper into Hwanwoong’s ear, the tips of his fangs lightly grazing the shell of his ear, “I’ll be sure to fill you up so full you can’t think of anything else except me.”

“Please, _please,_ Xion-” Hwanwoong gasps as he feels one finger press into him, not even close to enough, not even enough to replace the plug he’d had all night, “More, need it, want it, more, gimme more, harder.”

He can barely hear himself anymore, falling backwards until he hits the back of the toilet seat, feeling ruined already as Xion presses a second finger inside his ass. It’s somehow too much already, too much but not _enough_ and he still needs more, more, more.

“Xion,” He whines, “Just- just _fuck_ me, want it- need it, need your cock _inside_ me goddammit-”

“I think he can take at least another finger, hm?” Mr Representative cuts in as Hwanwoong’s eyes flutter closed, swallowing thickly as he places his hands on the back of his knees to hold them up more, to keep himself open for Xion and anything he’ll give him.

For once Xion doesn’t argue, he shifts his head and nibbles lightly along Hwanwoong’s jaw and huffs out a laugh as Hwanwoong’s back arches and he lets out a long, loud whine as Xion adds a third finger into him. He fucks him slowly, stretching him open, as if they have all the time in the world - as if he can’t tell that Hwanwoong is already so desperate for something more, larger, thicker, longer even though it’s all he’s asking- _begging_ for.

 _“Xion-_ I’m gonna-” Hwanwoong chokes on his breath as Xion curls his fingers, “Please, pleasepleaseplease- it’s not- it’s not _enough.”_ it comes out more like a sob than anything else as he buries his fingers in Xion’s hair again and tugs _hard._

“You can.” Xion purrs, “You can cum if you need to - I can make you cum as many times as you want tonight, my slutty imposter.”

It sounds like an offer—it sounds like a _promise_ —and Hwanwoong, as vocal as he's been this whole time, can do nothing but whine, high pitched and needy and _God_ , if he doesn't have a dick in his ass in the next sixty seconds he will straight up _die_.

"Oh yeah, that really seems to have done the—"

Mr. Representative's voice cuts off at the same time that Hwanwoong feels a violent hit to his shoulder, a loud _bang_ making his ears ring. It takes him out of the zone immediately, his senses suddenly sharpening, the blurry filter that wouldn't let him focus on anything that wasn't Xion gone in just a second. His body still reacts to the stimulation but Hwanwoong doesn't feel good anymore, crying out in pain, and Xion's onto him immediately, asking if he's alright, what's wrong, what's going on— All before Father Seungjun's voice rings in the busy bathroom.

"Sorry for that," he says, voice coming from outside the stalls, coming closer and closer until Hwanwoong thinks he might be right in front of the door to where he and Xion are. Xion immediately takes a stance in front of him, ears flattened and arms to the side, alert, ready to strike. "Got a job to do; you know how that is."

"What the— Did you _shoot_ me?"

Mr. Representative sounds somewhere between offended and mildly irritated. Father Seungjun's steps move away from the stall and towards the door of the bathroom, where Mr. Representative must be. Hwanwoong understands that; the adrenaline from the gunshot has him hyper aware of what's going on, barely acknowledging the throbbing pain coming from his shoulder, and so he knows that Father Seungjun is after Mr. Representative for some reason. And Hwanwoong's smart enough to know that, for some reason, the shot the demon took to the shoulder affected him too, somehow.

Is this the side effect of the stupid 1-step summoning ritual? Is he _bonded_ with Mr. Representative? Is that even— God, it might be the effect of whatever brightly colored drink Mr. Bartender gave him earlier finally fading away, but Hwanwoong's completely sober now, and he's starting to think that this club is _pretty fucking weird_.

"I said sorry," Father Seungjun insists. Although Hwanwoong can't see him, he sounds like a real asshole.

"You fucking _shot_ me!"

"Yeah, I would prepare myself for another one if I were you."

The words are taunting. Almost a little cocky. Hwanwoong reacts instantly, hand reaching out to grab Xion by the arm, too panicked to even think of something to say. It's a good thing that Xion seems to be thinking the same thing as him—so it probably _is_ true, then, that he's connected to Mr. Representative, somehow; _what the fuck_ —because it takes just one look at Hwanwoong's eyes for Xion to open the door, stepping out, voice firm as he calls out, "Father Seungjun. Stop."

"Stay out of it, Xion. He's a demon."

"He was summoned by Hwanwoong."

Hwanwoong breathes hard, closing his eyes tightly for a couple of seconds before deciding that being butt naked in this situation is an actual nightmare. He hurries to get the jumpsuit on, ignoring the stickiness of the lube and the way the blood is barely noticeable against the red fabric.

There's a lot going on when Hwanwoong very cautiously steps out of the stall. There's Xion making himself bigger as soon as he sees Hwanwoong coming to stand behind him, protective, eyes sharp and never leaving Father Seungjun's shotgun for long; there's Mr. Representative standing close to the sinks, a hand against his bloodied shoulder, somehow looking handsome with the mildly annoyed expression on his face and all the blood and—

And then there's Father Seungjun, looking so different from how he was when he came inside with the cowboy (and where _is_ the cowboy among all this?). He looks utterly terrifying, shotgun in hands and eyes entirely white from scleras to pupils.

"I'm sorry about your loverboy but I'm gonna need to take care of his buddy here. He can blame my strict No Demon Tolerance Even On Days Off policy if he wants to," Father Seungjun says. "A piece of advice, though? Tell him to play with fire before going around summoning demons for fun; it's safer and more fun, I promise."

Mr. Representative scoffs at that, visibly restraining from doing an eyeroll.

It seems that just the scoffing is enough to annoy Seungjun, though, the self-proclaimed man of God moving to point the shotgun straight at Mr. Representative's head.

Xion takes a step forward, hands no longer at his side but in front of him, pleading. " _Father_ ," he calls out, voice desperate, "please, stop. You don't understand— They're _bonded_."

Father Seungjun stops for a brief second. "Bonded, you say?"

"It seems that way, so _please_ , I'm begging you, don't put a bullet in this fucker's head _yet_." Xion's words are convincing, ringing desperate, far from the self-asserted, vaguely aloof persona Hwanwoong's seen. One of his gloved hands reaches behind him and Hwanwoong doesn't waste a second before grasping it, shuffling closer to Xion nearly unconsciously; he just feels safer this way. " _Please_ , Father," Xion tries again after Seungjun looks unconvinced, "I'll do _anything_ if you keep Hwanwoong alive."

“Huh” Playful, dragged out— Father Seungjun’s attention seems to be _piqued_ , shotgun turned a little to the side on his hand as he raises an eyebrow at Xion. “Anything, _Dongju_ dear?”

“Within—” Xion ( _Dongju_?) stammers, holds Hwanwoong’s hand tight _tight_ , ears flicking back and to the front again, tail a careful curl by their legs. “Within reason”

“What _is_ reason, though?” and Father Seungjun’s finger twitches over the trigger, smile taking over his features in something twisted. “How far are you willing to go?”

Xion’s _tense—_ tense as he pulls Hwanwoong closer to him, as his tail curls around Hwanwoong’s thigh where it can and fucking _hell_ what the _fuck_ did Hwanwoong even get himself into and _why_ does this _vampire catboy_ seem so willing to sacrifice himself for a hook-up.

With all due respect (which is to say: none at all), if Hwanwoong made it out of here alive, he was going to clock Keonhee right on the fucking _face._

“How much are you willing to ask?” Father Seungjun laughs at that, something that’s almost a cackle as he straightens his weapon.

“Usually,” He shrugs, stretches out his fingers in fake thought. “I’d be willing to play, but—” He gets his fingers back in position, closes his eyes a second— turns back to look at Mr. Representative, any trace of a smile gone. “I’m tired today. Human casualties can’t be helped in this job, you know?”

“ _Father—”_ Xion’s voice rings desperate, everything tense tense _tense_ and looking almost _scared--_

And then Father Seungjun shoots— movement careless and quick and Hwanwoong _swears_ he can see his life flash before his eyes—

But there’s no sound— not from the shotgun, at least.

“Hyojin” Father Seungjun’s voice sounds frustrated, cold— hand still on the trigger and trying to _pull—_ “Let me shoot”

There’s silence— silence silence _silence_ even with the fights raging on outside, even with Hwanwoong’s blood pounding in his ears and the pain on his shoulder ringing ringing _ringing—_

“Seungjun” There’s a hand on top of Seungjun’s, shotgun flickering a second before it just _disappears—_ “Don’t be mean”

—and then there’s the fucking _cowboy_ again, clothes more casual and looking more presentable now that he’s not getting fucked on the bathroom floor, hand holding onto Father Seungjun’s and feet light on the floor tiles.

Jesus _Christ—_ Hwanwoong pulls back on Xion’s hand, arm— clings to him like a lifeline with thoughts that turn turn turn _turn_ and _what the fuck is even going_ on _here—_

“I’m not being mean, I’m doing my _job_ ” Despite frustration in his voice, Father Seungjun seems to let the cowboy— Hyojin— hold his hand and lower it, fingers intertwined and posture significantly less tense.

“Killing humans is not your job,”

“I’m killing the demon” Father Seungjun snaps back, eyes fixed on Mr. Representative. “The human’s just a casualty”

“You’re gonna get fired” Hyojin sounds bored— like he’s had this conversation countless times before, even, hand coming up to flick Father Seunjun’s forehead. “Just transfer the bond—” and then Mr. Representative gets up, seems to be trying to slip away and out of the bathroom—

And then there’s a gunshot— one that hits Mr. Representative’s leg and comes from a gun that’s suddenly in Hyojin’s free hand—

One that has Hwanwoong letting out a choked scream, hands clinging to Xion’s arm and body falling forward and against his back— Xion stumbles, curls his tail even tighter on Hwanwoong, hair and fur standing up and eyes _wide—_

“Don’t move” Hyojin’s light-hearted tone turns cold— Mr. Representative only scoffs, rests back against the wall with dead eyes and blood that’s a river of blood blood _blood_ on the floor—

And Hyojin says something else— and Mr. Representative replies— and maybe Father Seungjun talks, too, but Hwanwoong’s everything _hurts—_ hurts and burns and it’s currents _currents_ of pain that coil up from his leg and nerves and senses senses _senses_ and from his shoulder and he feels wet _wet_ with blood that’s not even his and and _and—_

“Xion” his own voice sounds _thin—_ sounds pained and broken and Hwanwoong’s pretty sure he’s about to _cry—_ “Xion Xion Xion—” and he doesn’t _know_ why he’s falling over and leaning on someone that’s basically a _stranger_ but Hwanwoong has no one nothing no one no one no one and _nothing else_ and the only god damn sense of _safety_ is this stupid fucking catboy vampire that Hwanwoong has not even been able to _fuck with_ becuase things keep _happening—_ “Hurts— it hurts a lot, fuck—”

“Can it be transferred?” Xion’s voice is coated in fake confidence— shaking at the edges as he pulls Hwanwoong so he can rest against Xion’s chest, everything shaking _shaking_ and breathing seeming to just run _away—_

Father Seungjun, now comfortably sitting on top of Mr. Representatives‘s back on the floor, turns to them with a questioning look, irises something almost _human_ —

“The bond— however this shit works, can it be—”

“Transferred? No, I’m not bonding with a demon” Mr. Representative moves, Father Seungjun lets out a sigh, digs his hand into open wounds and has Hwanwoong biting at Xion’s chest to just not _scream—_ “ Father Seungjun’s irises turn back to white, head cocked to the side as Hyojin sighs. “You could sever the bond yourself, though, but then he’d run away” a smile, a bloody hand up to push his bangs back. “And I can’t have that, sorry”

“Can’t you keep him in place—”

“Unless we shoot him more,” Hyojin smacks Father Seungjun’s hand away from his (now stained) hair, turns to look at Hwanwoong. “Probably not”

“Just shoot him then” Hwanwoong pushes away from Xion, turns to throw a glare at Father Seungjun.

“Hwanwoong—” Xion tries— Hwanwoong silences him with a glare, hands gripping tight to the front of Xion’s shirt—

“It’s gonna hurt” Father Seungjun presses his hand into Mr. Representative’s wound again, makes sure it doesn’t heal. “ _Real_ bad, dear”

“I know.” Hwanwoong replies, “Just _do it.”_

Maybe it's the wild fucking circumstances, maybe it's because he truly is braver than he realises, or maybe he's just slowly losing it after having been cockblocked from Xion for _so long_ and he's now even more desperate than before. Maybe he too would do anything.

There's a low whisper in his head, a voice, and Hwanwoong thinks - _this may as fucking well happen._

"Hwanwoong," says Mr Representative in his head, "go to the summoning mark back on the wall, touch it again and say this out loud. I’d rather not _leave,_ not now when the fun has only just begun, but this’ll save both of our asses."

The world mutes itself around Hwanwoong, he can tell Xion is still arguing with Father Seungjun and Hyojin looks 5 seconds away from tearing his hair out. But all he hears are the words Mr Representative whispers to him - words in a language he doesn't know, words he can't decipher, words that he _feels_ rather than hears like a command and he'll know what to say once he's there. He slips out of Xion’s grip, feeling Mr Representative’s eyes on the back of his head, knowing he's grinning with teeth too sharp and eyes too dark.

No one notices as he steps back inside the stall, eyes scanning the wall desperately for the mark that had summoned Mr Representative in the first place. His hand flies up, reaching out, drawn to red lines that converge on a drawing of a fox with nine tails, carved into the wall of the cubicle itself. His senses numb and his lips move of their own accord, reciting the words that had been whispered to him, the pain in his leg _throbs_ and _burns_ and he’s not sure if it’s blood or lube that he feels run down his inner thighs.

Hwanwoong blinks.

He’s standing beside Xion again, the catboy’s tail curling tighter around his thigh, as if nothing had happened and he doesn’t remember walking back. Xion’s fangs are bared, ears back as he glares at Father Seungjun who stands up only to place one foot firmly on Mr Representative’s back.

“You’ll want to brace yourself then, Hwanwoong.” Father Seungjun says, readying his rifle again.

He fires and Hwanwoong chokes on a scream, falling forward into Xion’s side, legs trembling as he clings and digs his fingers into Xion’s blouse, Xion’s arm, Xion, Xion, Xion. The pain sears through him, as if setting him alight, but he can’t stop the moan that makes its way out of his throat, low and desperate. He stumbles forward into Xion, tears streaming down his cheeks from the pain as he presses himself close to the catboy, pulls Xion closer towards him, presses their bodies together. Xion’s tail uncurls from his thigh, but Hwanwoong finds himself with his legs on either side of Xion’s body, and the _pain-_ it hurts like hell but (he shakes, buries his face in Xion’s neck) there’s something else- and he ruts desperately against Xion’s thigh, grinding his still hard dick against the catboy while he shakes and-

He moans, gasps for air, feels his cum join the rivers of blood and lube that run down his legs underneath his jumpsuit.

There’s a very long silence.

“This suit was _expensive,_ Hwanwoong.” Mr Representative sighs loudly, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he was shot a third time. “You just made me ruin these pants.” He tsks.

“Silence, demon.” Father Seungjun thankfully doesn’t comment on what just happened, but Xion gives Hwanwoong a look that’s equal parts surprise and amusement and _lust_ that makes his cheeks burn.

Hwanwoong swallows thickly, still leaning most of his weight on Xion, when the pain dissipates. His shoulder and his leg are no longer screaming at him, there’s simply nothing. He watches as Father Seungjun lifts his rifle and slams the butt of it into the gunshot wound in Mr Representative’s leg.

Everyone in the room freezes as, instead of Hwanwoong yelling in pain, _Father Seungjun_ himself cries out and stumbles forward, gripping the edge of the sink in shock, rifle slipping from his grasp.

“Ah, so it worked.” Mr Representative sounds ridiculously smug as he sits up, absolutely drenched in blood. His eyes still look dead, but he nods at Hwanwoong, “I could explain but I think it’s more fun like this.”

Rage contorts Father Seungjun’s face, white eyes glowing brighter as the ends of his sleeves curl with white flames and he realises-

“You switched the bond to _me?”_

Xion wastes absolutely no time at all, pushing Hwanwoong back into the cubicle they came from and locking the door behind them. Hwanwoong surges forward, crashing their lips together in a kiss as Xion’s hands hurry to unzip his jumpsuit once more. He’s dimly aware that Mr Representative is talking about some sort of fox alternate timeline version of himself but the noise Xion makes, almost a whine, when Hwanwoong presses the palm of his hand against the bulge in his pants overrides anything else he could be paying attention to.

“Fuck. Me.” Hwanwoong demands.

Xion makes another noise— strangled and _unsure_ — hands going up to Hwanwoong’s hair and pulling pulling _pulling_ as Hwanwoong throws the damn jumpsuit off for a second time tonight— licks at Xion’s lips and pulls him close—

“Are you okay, though?” quiet, careful— Xion’s lips and cold _cold_ breathing against Hwanwoong’s skin and _god_ , Hwanwoong appreciates that, even if he’s just a good fuck, Xion is worrying about him but— _but_ , he’s been trying to get himself _fucked_ by this hot guy for _way_ too long and he’s ridiculously needy and _no,_ rutting up against the other’s thigh and coming all over himself is _not_ enough _dammit_ if he doesn’t get fucked in the next _second—_

“Yes” A whine, another kiss, Xion’s hands falling to Hwanwoong’s sides, one of Hwanwoong’s own flying up to the back of Xion’s head— tangling up in dark hair and pulling _hard—_ “Don’t worry, okay?” A little sweet— together with a kiss to Xion’s lips as Hwanwoong falls back against the wall. “Just—” he breathes out, feels the way blood’s dried on his skin— the way it’s dripped down with lube and cum and _fuck_ his thighs must look fucking _filthy_ but that just riles him up _more—_ “Fuck me, god, Xion, please—” Xion’s teeth to his neck again— cold skin on burning _hot—_ “Want you so bad, _fuck—”_

“How do— how do we—” Xion’s hands hover awkwardly in mid-air as he pulls away, eyes hazy and lips parted and everything _cute—_

“Sit—” and he pushes Xion away from him, lips to his neck as he works open Xion’s pants and shoves them down together with his underwear— and then he pushes Xion back back _back—_ until he falls back and sits on the toilet with heavy breaths and _god_ fucking _finally—_ “Good boy”

Xion’s tail flicks— ears jumping back as he whines—

 _Cute—_ Hwanwoong laughs, gets the lube and condom from Xion’s pants ( _thankfully_ the guy _had_ kept them even with shit going on. Bless him, really), somehow manages to get himself in a position that doesn’t fucking _hurt_ over the damn toilet, catches Xion’s lips again as he rips open the condom packet and works it on Xion’s dick—

Xion whines against Hwanwoong’s lips, fangs scraping against Hwanwoong’s skin and _god_ Hwanwoong hopes he can get to feel them against his skin and see them dripping with his blood again soon—

He pours lube over Xion’s dick, spreads it messily with a stroke of his hand— Xion’s hands go to his hips, nails digging in just right enough to make Hwanwoong whine against Xion’s lips— just right enough to keep Hwanwoong steady as he sinks down down _down—_

Hwanwoong’s breath hitches, hands scrambling for leverage— pulling on Xion’s shirt and hair as he adjusts and the fishnets are digging into his legs and and— Xion whines, seems to be holding back from digging claws in further _further_ into Hwanwoong’s skin, tail curling and soft around Hwanwoong’s leg, fangs digging into his own bottom lip and eyes so so _gone—_

“Xion— Xion Xion _Xion—”_ Hwanwoong’s everything _everything_ shakes and he already came once and everything feels like so fucking _much_ and he’s been waiting so _long—_ “Move— move, please please please—”

Xion kisses him quiet, pulls him in closer and his claws dig in deeper and Hwanwoong wants to _bleed—_

He bitess at Xion’s tongue, lips— pulls away as Xion hisses, lips parted and— “Bite me— Xion, Xion— please please _please—”_

Xion’s fangs are on Hwanwoong’s skin in a second— biting careless as they _finally_ start moving and it’s all messy and Hwanwoong’s in pain and there’s no space and the position’s awkward but it’s all just so fucking _good—_ good when Xion growls something posessive against his skin, pulls him down on his dick and his claws dig in in _in_ until Hwanwoong’s bleeding again and he’s a mess of cum and lube and precum and _tears_ and he loves it so _much—_ there’s drool running down his chin as he lets Xion bite him, lets himself be pulled down, moves his hips to match as he feels pain _pain_ and the smooth material of Xion’s gloves and the sting of _everything_ until—

He cries out, holds onto Xion even tighter, _closer—_ blunt nails digging into cold skin through Xion’s shirt and eyes unfocused and pain sharp sharp _sharp_ and he distantly remembers there’s still people outside and Hwanwoong’s being loud and _Xion’s_ being loud as he takes takes _takes_ but he just doesn’t _care—_

He buries a hand in Xion’s hair— pulls his head back roughly— enough that he can take his lips again, kiss him messy and desperate and wet _wet_ and then Xion’s fangs cut Hwanwoong’s lips and it all tastes like iron and there’s blood and spit on his skin on Xion’s skin and dripping _dripping—_

They pull away again— Xion’s lips back to Hwanwoong’s neck as he whines _loud_ , digs his nails in deeper and then Hwanwoong sinks back again with a moan and Xion tenses up with a moan of his own, bites down _hard_ on Hwanwoong’s shoulder—

And then he lets go, blood down his chin and coating his lips as he looks at nothing with glassy eyes and breathes _hard_. His tail, still wrapped around Hwanwoong’s leg, twitches together with his ears— tensing up with no strength as Hwanwoong kisses him again, licks at blood and spit and pulls one of Xion’s hands to Hwanwoong’s dick.

Xion jerks him off while panting and shaky— little whines from his lips as Hwanwoong rolls his hips and kisses him— everything uncoordinated and messy and loud _loud_ as Hwanwoong clings and spills all over himself again— all over Xion’s hand and shirt and fuck—

 _Fuck_ — all that damn waiting was so _worth it_. Hwanwoong feels floaty, completely fucked out as he keeps kissing Xion because he can— laps up blood and spit with the excuse of cleaning up before he pulls away and falls forward with a little sigh, face buried on Xion’s neck and everything feeling so _good—_

“We have to—” Xion swallows, hands now holding Hwanwoong close— kind. “Clean up, Hwanwoong”

Hwanwoong only nuzzles against him in response— lets out a whine when Xion pushes at his shoulder with a pout and kind (cold) hands.

“C’mon” and Hwanwoong sighs, but gets up nonetheless, legs shaky as he lifts off Xion’s lap with a sigh— he leans against the stall wall, wipes at his face and feels the little streams of blood running down his legs.

Ah— he needs to clean that.

“Hwanwoong?” Xion’s calls from where he’s still sitting, expression a little grossed out as he tosses the tied up condom into the trash. Hwanwoong gives him a cock of his head, pain catching up to his senses leaving him unable to do much else— Xion seems to catch on. “Um— your thighs— it’s kinda gross, but” He looks away, shrugs— “I can— I can lick them so they, like, close up— like your neck?”

“Oh” Hwanwoong brings a hand up— feels around scabs, around little puncture wounds that might leave behind scars— feels around at wounds that have all closed up. “Okay” he smiles, pushes himself off the wall—

And then Xion stands, gets Hwanwoong to sit down— kneels on the floor to wipe at Hwanwoong’s legs with toilet paper he seemed to have picked up at some point— and then he licks at the wounds with care, hands a little shaky where they rest on Hwanwoong—

His tongue’s rough, much like a cat’s, and Hwanwoong can’t help but find that absolutely adorable— find the way he frowns as he looks for other scratches and cuts before licking them adorable— finding _everything_ about Xion adorable.

Once he’s done, Xion helps Hwanwoong get his underwear back on— puts his own back, too, dusts off his pants with a little frown before putting them on.

Hwanwoong laughs, reaches for his cursed jumpsuit and tries to think about how _bad_ it could be to just head home in his underwear because he can’t even be _bothered_ to put the damn jumpsuit back on.

Underwear and fishnets. Maybe not a good idea, but—

“Do you— do you want me to help you with that, or?” Xion’s voice is a little confused— Hwanwoong looks up at him at the same time Xion picks up his coat (which had survived mostly unharmed during the whole ordeal, somehow), head tilted to the side and pout on his face.

"I got it, don't worry."

He doesn't miss the way Xion hesitates before nodding, pout still on his face in the most endearing way. It's a pain to get in the jumpsuit but he manages fine on his own, careful not to put his hand on that damned summoning spell on the wall when he scrambles for a little assistance with his balance. Xion does end up helping him, wordlessly lending a shoulder, and Hwanwoong thanks him before the two of them look decent enough to get out of the stall.

Hwanwoong's not sure what he expected to find once they came outside again, but Mr. Bartender standing in the middle of the room is definitely _not_ it.

It's easy to tell him apart from Mr. Representative because Mr. Representative is still on the floor, wrists bound behind his back and with something in his mouth working as a gag. Although Father Seungjun and Hyojin are nowhere to be found, Mr. Bartender stands tall and aloof as he pointedly ignores his double, who looks mainly bored.

"Ah, there you are," he says as soon as Xion and Hwanwoong walk out, both stopping dead in their tracks right in front of the stall, their backs to a dead end as they face the bartender blocking the way to the only exit. There's nothing in his stance that appears malevolent, if anything it's just eerie how he's just standing there, but his dead eyes will never not send a chill down Hwanwoong's spine. How can someone like that work at a bar? "Sounds like you two had fun in there. You're lucky the riot is still happening or I would've had to kick you out after several noise complaints."

"Dongwook," Xion says, ignoring the way both demons react to the name; his eyes are set on Mr. Bartender only. "What do you want?"

"What do I want? Why, I'm just here doing my job."

In an almost enchanting move, Mr. Bartender raises his hand and, with a delicate move, curls two of his fingers as if playing a couple of invisible strings. Hwanwoong immediately feels a burning sensation on his arm; he finds a red mark a few centimeters long when he checks it.

Xion shrugs his coat off and pulls down the collar of his shirt until he reveals has a similar one.

He seems to know what they entail because his eyes go wide, voice incredulous as he asks, "You're _banning_ us?!"

"Now, that's only a first warning." Mr. Bartender smirks, brings his hand down, puts it in his pocket before taking out a phone. "Regardless of how it happened and the depth of your involvement, you two are undeniably responsible, at least partially, of what happened today. It pains me to do this to you, Xion, dear, but you know the rules. I'm being merciful just giving you a warning instead of a punishment."

As Mr. Bartender takes the phone to his ear, Hwanwoong can't help but wrap a hand around Xion's arm, leaning in to whisper, "Punishment? Of the sexy kind, or...?"

"Fifty-fifty chance it's that or literally dragging us to Hell."

"Oh."

They don't have a chance to say anything else as Mr. Bartender turns towards them again, phone back in his pocket and expression duller than before. "I called you two a cab. The riot is still going strong and we are still technically in lockdown, but... Well, I feel a little bad for having to implement the rules so severely. Consider this the carrot to the stick."

Hwanwoong half expects Mr. Bartender to wave his hand again and suddenly teletransport them outside, but it doesn't seem to work that way. They end up having to follow him through the chaos outside the bathroom, dodging flying objects and rogue fists while trying not to step on puddles of blood. Hwanwoong's not sure if he and Xion start holding hands before or after they step over the lizard man Hwanwoong saw at the beginning of the night, but they continue holding hands even after Mr. Bartender gets them through a hidden door behind the bar. It should be physically impossible but it leads to the entrance where Hwanwoong finds his helmet still chained to Keonhee's bike.

Mr. Bartender doesn't say anything but a short, 'Take care,' before closing the door. The riot noises mixed with the booming music are suddenly gone, leaving nothing but the sounds of the city to fill the slightly awkward silence between them. The cab is already there, waiting, but Hwanwoong figures he should take Keonhee's bike.

"So..." Hwanwoong pauses, not really knowing what to say, but he does know he doesn't want to let go of Xion's hands just yet. He continues holding it, even swinging them a little as he stalls having to say goodbye.

"Crazy night, huh?"

Hwanwoong laughs, because _God_ does that fall short to truly describe tonight's events. Xion laughs too, and as the two of them share this little moment, Hwanwoong finds the awkwardness dissolving to leave a sweet aftertaste. This is nice. Him and Xion, the two of them outside the craziness of the club, holding hands and laughing together. With his brain no longer horny-ridden, he has the clear, perfect thought that he'd like for this to become a common occurrence. Not the _getting shot_ and _soul bonding with demons_ , and he could use with not seeing Mr. Bartender ever again, but being with Xion.

He means it mostly as a joke when he grins and says, "So same time next week?"

Xion's incredulous laugh, the way his eyes shine with amusement and _mischief_ , and how he nods with the widest smile on his face—

"Yeah, sure. Let's make this a weekly thing."

Hwanwoong doesn't get to ask as they kiss again, this time goodbye, but he does wonder: how long will it take until there's three marks on their arms and enjoying himself with Xion turns from bliss into his doom? But _oh_ , as he thinks of how good it felt to have those fangs break through his skin and that dick inside him, and how warm he feels kissing Xion now, he decides that it's worth it.

Xion is _so_ worth it.

**Author's Note:**

>  **moonravn:** help
> 
>  **euphoniceclipse:** i had a nice, lil bit sappy, authors note typed up but then i saw the other two's so nvm, 
> 
> hope you enjoyed this lovely monster of a fic we've created, accidental plot and lore and weird cameos and all!
> 
> lets fuckin go, horny nation
> 
>  **sunboy:** "ao3 user sunboy, did you really extend this at every possible chance just to have lee dong wook show up 90% more than needed?" why yes, yes i did. and ill do it again. you are not immune to lee dong wook  
>  ____
> 
> _if u can tell when it switches from one author to the other (hands u a little cupcake) :)_


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